


Shoot Out

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: bluestreak, character: perceptor, genre: crack, genre: humor, verse: g1, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> So who is the better crack shot?  Bluestreak or Perceptor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoot Out

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Bluestreak, Perceptor  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Notes:** Gift Ficcy because the bunny bit me, and I had to obey it. ^_^

Perceptor had no idea how he managed to get tangled up in this discussion. Or maybe it qualified as a debate now? Regardless, he had most certainly had far too much high grade, because he knew that under normal circumstances he was not at all a braggart, and neither was Bluestreak for that matter.

“I bet I could shoot a human-”

Laughter sounded throughout the common room and Bluestreak giggled. “Shut up and let me finish!” he slurred. “I bet I could shoot a human drink can off the top of the volcano.”

Perceptor snorted. “You are on, as they say. What is your forfeit when I hit the target and you do not?”

More laughter as Bluestreak shook his helm. “I’m too drunk for that. Winner names what he wants when we’re sober.” He paused, pointing at Perceptor, finger wiggling close enough that the usually mild-mannered scientist was tempted to bite at it. “No weapons though. I won’t ask for your rifle, and you don’t ask for mine.”

“Deal.”

“Ok. Guess we need a can,” Bluestreak said, and looked around like their common room would have anything for humans in it.

“You guys get your guns. I have something the same size that’ll work,” Sideswipe said, pushing up from the table.

Perceptor couldn’t remember getting to his quarters, but he did remember picking up his favorite rifle and checking that the safety was on. How he managed to get outside was utterly beyond recall, but there he was, and Bluestreak was there waiting, and Sideswipe had a white-silver-ish _tiny_ cylinder in his hand.

“Wow. That’s farther up that I remembered,” Bluestreak said, staring up at the peak of the volcano.

Perceptor tilted his helm back, the ground rocking a bit under his feet and making him scramble for balance. How were they going to get the ‘can’ up there?

“Here, I’ll take it,” Fireflight said, and snatched the can out of Sideswipe’s hand.

“Whoa! You crash even sober, Flight. Forget it.” Slingshot took the can, and launched before anyone else could protest. He wobbled in the air, none too sober himself, but made it to the summit.

Perceptor squinted, then once Slingshot was back on the ground lifted his rifle to look for the target.

“Wow, that’s little,” Bluestreak said. “Sure ya don’t wanna back out?”

“Not in the least, but I understand if you do,” Perceptor replied, hoping his smirk really did look like a confident smirk and not a drunken, dopey grin.

Bluestreak snorted and lifted his rifle. “You’re so slagged.”

“You’re so slagged.”

“Shoot already!” Cliffjumper shouted.

Perceptor inhaled and exhaled, finger on the trigger.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Hold.

Wait. “Am I shooting first, or are you?” Perceptor asked.

“Uh… Rock, Paper, Scissors?”

“Oh for the love of-”

“Primus’ left three lugnuts!”

“What’s going out here? I’ve got Red Alert telling me-” Prowl froze mid step, expression going flat. “Are those loaded firearms?”

“No,” Perceptor lied, then burst into giggles.

“Ooooo~ We are so busted,” Bluestreak snickered.

“Safeties on,” Prowl ordered, holding out both hands. “Give them to me.”

He was obeyed to the sound of a chorus of disappointed groans, but Perceptor couldn’t stop laughing.

~ | ~

“Oh dear.” Perceptor groaned as he regained consciousness. What had happened?

“Can say that again.”

Barely peeling his optics open, Perceptor saw Bluestreak. He blinked against the light, then managed to see enough to recognize where they were. “Oh dear.”

Bluestreak chuckled, then groaned and clutched his helm. “Ow, don’t make me laugh.”

“How much trouble are we in?” Perceptor asked, squinting around their small cell in the brig.

“Uh… loaded rifles, drunk off our afts…” Bluestreak shrugged. “I think I purged on Prowl’s feet.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah. And we still don’t know who’s the better shot.”

Perceptor grinned a little, it might have even managed to be a smirk if not for the wince of pain as he moved his helm. “Once we’ve faced our music, we’ll have to set up a proper competition.”

Bluestreak grinned back. “You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


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